Today was my son’s last day of preschool and so, it was my Last Day packing a little towel into his backpack for him. The towel that they use to lay on when it’s rest time.
And it struck me. Maybe not in the way that you might think, but maybe in the way that you might need to hear.
You know, as I was volunteering in the classroom the other day and I got to be there to witness the kids get out their towels and laythem out across the rug.
Some have really special towels and the towels they were proud of with pretty pictures or soft textures. Some of them showed them off to me. I looked over at my sons towel. It’s usually just a plain white towel I grab in a flurry, maybe even a little raggedy around the edges. I never really thought of packing a special towel, not too much. Or if the thought ever did cross my mind, it left as quickly as it came, with a flurry of other commotions and excitement.
And that’s okay. Though there is nothing wrong about packing a “best“ towel, and for a moment I perhaps I should’ve.
Then I realized.
That what I gave him was already enough already. It was always enough.
It might be a little ragged around the edges. I might have forgotten a few times.
But The love that I gave him, the care, the time, the attention, in all the little details, even the days I forgot, land he had to borrow a towel from school.
It was always more than enough.
It didn’t have to be fancy. It just had to be. And it was. There.
And do was I.
I witnessed, all of it, that I could. I did, the very best that I could. Perhaps we won’t remember all of the running around we did or the sacrifices we made or the hustle, just get that raggedy towel laid out for our kids. or maybe we will. But maybe we shouldn’t worry about it. Maybe it just is, just was, just will be enough. Enough for it to be. What it is. What it was. What it will be.
We laid out the table, we laid out the towels and so much of ourselves. It will be enough because it already is.
While I cringe for a minor second if I think about those threadbare edges of the towel I sent in from time to time, I know my heart is not threadbare. Or maybe it is just a little. And that’s okay too.
We have given, parents. We love, we lay down, we witness. That, plus telling them, showing them of God’s unending love, is going to be enough.
When we look back we’ll wish we had more to give. But we did it all, friends. We did everything we could, everything we knew to do, everything we had time to. That, and God’s presence is enough, more than enough.
If we can raise our kids to remember this, it definitely is.
You did everything humanly possible as a parent. So you’ll look back at times and when there was enough? If you’re being being really honest with yourself and remember there was everything you had to guess. You laid it out like an offering that threadbare towel and it was more than enough. Why because it didn’t have to be perfect because it was done out of love as a sacrifice I not only for a creator But for the children and he placed in your care. And that is why I will always be enough because you are never alone too We won’t be judged the way we judge one another or maybe even ourselves Will be judged by loving God who knows the difference between an offering. Who knows that a threadbare towel is Sometimes the best you got. Sometimes it’s all you’ve got. It doesn’t matter so much what really matters that you gave
That God anoints our heads with oil, even if mom forgot to brush it. That love never forgot us, even if we think it did. It never does.
That God, He laid out a table before us , there in the presence of our enemies. Sometimes the enemy seems to be time itself. And the ability to do the things well. But it’s not. We can rest. Knowing that right here, is enough. That our efforts are enough.
I think too, that what looks less than impressive might still be more than enough. That not everything can be judged by what we see or seem to place value on. That our imperfections don’t get the final word. That love wins out more than anything, and can’t be narrowed down or demonstrated in any one thing. Or maybe one. But that’s a cross and not a towel. Let’s remember that.
It’s enough because of that cross. That Christ demonstrated His Love for us in this way, that he laid out his life for his friends. Friend, that makes us enough. Not out efforts or our titles But knowing we are loved, and then loving. Knowing that I am who I am, and I lay it all out before God, and my family.
It has to be, and always is, enough.
And so I’ll keep going, and keep choosing love. Keep laying out a blanket, a towel, a table, of love. It’ll look different in the next stages. And it doesn’t ever have to be fancy. It just has to be. Me. Giving, in love.
And because of that, it is always going to be enough.
I was getting ready to run out the door with my family, for church, and myself being the last, usual step, I glanced at the mirror for a moment. I looked and thought I “needed” something. I opened the drawer to pull out a headband that I bought a few years back. It’s a really cute one. To look at in the drawer, at least. The minute it goes on my head, though, I usually hate it. I mean, I like headbands, AND, I don’t even like to use the word “hate”. But it fits.
Again, as I put it on this morning, I can confirm. I hate everything about it. How it looks on me, and everything else it represents. It stands up too tall, the pearl beads are too pronounced around my face, my ears seem to stick out. I dislike how I look, it doesn’t see, right. I think of how I see “everyone” wearing it on Instagram, and maybe a few people in real life. (Insert eye roll.) Some people look great in it, but I don’t. And I dislike thinking about this.
I take it off. ”You don’t like it, mommy?” my daughter asks?
“No, I just don’t like it on me.”
Remember, I don’t dislike it. It looks great in my drawer! Why else have I kept it this long, even though I don’t wear it. The thing is, it’s just not for me.
Sometimes it takes figuring out who you’re not for a little while before figuring out who you really are.
And truthfully, all I can think of when I see it, is how influenced I was. How influenced we all were who bought it. Who buy anything, really. I mean, I’m not upset or anything. We all have to find things, buy things, learn and grow. I’m not bothered by the person who influenced me to buy it, I was a willing participant. But still. The whole thing bothers me sometimes.
“Too many people wear it,” I say.
“Oh, I get it. You don’t want to follow, you want to be a leader,” my daughter says, nodding, not unwisely.
“Well, that’s kinda true. But it’s not even really that this time. True, I don’t want to just follow anyone else. I do want to be a leader But more importantly, I just want to be my best, and I don’t care if anyone follows or not.”
Life really is just the blind leading the blind sometimes. It’s kind of embarrassing when you really think about it. How the whole thing works. Everything is so fickle, feedback based, and changing.
People give and feedback- in life, on ”platforms” or in positions. It comes in the form of sales, followers, likes, questions, comments, rejections, and affections alike. We tailor and change our content and “dressings” according to what feels good, and often, to fit what people want. What people say or seem to say, whatever our metrics are that we’re busy measuring. There are collaborations and responsibilities and partnerships, in business and life, and with all of it, benchmarks to hit, repeat, hit, repeat.
I know, it’s life, it’s business, its savvy. But for many, it’s very personal. For some it is their person. It becomes their person, their livelihood. A brand, identity, or purpose even.
But, that way of living, alone, and building a business or life, no less, is less than ideal. Not just sales or metrics, but the meaning behind them. Why?
Because it is shifting sand.
Without the right things, some constants, influencing you, how can you be of true influence? Sure you can influence. But will it ever be enough or mean enough even to you personally, if all thats guiding you is how much people like you or don’t like you, accept or reject you based on whatever it is you are saying, selling, or sharing?
Is feedback ever enough, in life or pursuit?
Never. No human feedback is ever enough. Because no person alone can see what is printed upon your heart, and what influence you were meant to have, what difference you were truly meant to make. It’s written in invisible, heavenly ink. It’s not defined by human standards or man-made measuring sticks.
It’s above and beyond all of that. How do you, how could you, define whether something is a true success or not, if you can’t see it- what’s written on the heart, by an invisible hand, for an eternal purpose?
Speaking of that headband. I saw it again a few days later. While musing in my heart about these things, and how we cant measure according to what we see on the outside, but instead by following a heart informed by Love, I saw someone else wearing it. I like her even more than the person who ”sold” it to me. Her content and values match up with mine more, and I feel more affinity. Her platform has grown lately , her books have been recently published and that smiling face of hers fit the headband much better than mine. But it wasn’t the headband that bothered, or stood out to me. It was something else. It wasn’t how beautiful or funny she is, or her adorable family in pictures, or her recent family vacation to the beach. I didn’t want to click on links or buy anything or try anything.
It was the published author bit. Not because its a competition, not at all. Not that kind of influence, but because the spark in me doesn’t long for validation, but longs to come out. But because she’s doing something that I am very influenced to do, too, already. Something written on my heart in invisible ink since before I was born. Something I’m working on and dreaming of and hoping for, in big ways and small.
That’s influence of the best kind. One that is not defined or created by another person, but taps into your own greatest worth, and what you sense is already there, and just needs to come out. What mirrors back to you what is already written on your heart and says to your truest you, ”come out!” Not, “become like me.” But, “Be who you were always meant to be!”
Beyond looks, likes, and headbands
It’s not an idea or an influence, a practice even, that make something good or bad, it’s whats behind it. What’s pushing the decision, the response, and what’s influencing you. What is the influence? Then, what kind of fruit does it produce? Not only in the world around you, but in you?
Some things take years to build, while others happen in an instant. It’s not the pace or speed of the process or its completion that define success. You can spend years working, years building without anything to show for it. You can spend a lieftime building what looks quite fruitless from the outside. It’s whether or not it fits the plans. That were drawn for you, already. That men can’t imagine, so how could they define?
If what you are doing is influenced by God, and what He has spoken, or written to your heart, then there is no fruitless. There is only gold.
There’s a measuring that happens only by His hands. Of invisible things, weighty things. Not everything that is important can be measured by man, and not all that seems fruitless really is.
There are seeds that are plant that reap a harvest you will never see. There are people that have wide influence and there are some that go very deep. Gardens of eternal difference, that appear to be not to big. There are certain seeds that will fall into a quiet spot, but become an eternal disruptor. Some of the most important fields are not the ones that look the most expansive or impressive, but they are important because they go the deepest. They change the furthest because they touch the heart. Influence comes in all shapes and immeasurable sizes.
So that headband, I shoved it back in my drawer. Though I think about throwing it away, I just also might keep it To remember, to not only not be overly influenced by others, or even seek to be to an influence, really. But to be genuinely showing up and shining myself, from the inside out. Sharing with the world who I am, and giving almost always, last thought to how I look and first thought to how I’m really showing up.
Listening to the heart, to Love, learning to love , reading the invisible ink. Not seeking to be led by anything else but a most loving God. Not seeking to see if anyone should even follow, but only following for myself the leading of God. Not caring about the size of things, the shape of things, or human measurements, but letting Love go deep, yet and, deeper still.
Thankful that God doesn’t care whether I wear the headband or not, who loves me just the same regardless. Who allows me the space to be expressive and delights in seeing me delighted. Whose Love is not defined by perceived beauty, likes or followers. Whose definition of success is not defined by what I can even see, but who sees the harvest, and fruit a heart. Whose Love is displayed perfectly in Christ, who freed me to be perfectly me- influenced by Love and expressing that into the world, whatever that looks like.
That is the influence I want in my life. He knows where we’re going, where He’s leading us, best. Be influenced , to be perfectly you.,.🙌🏻
We sat on the library’s carpeted floor together. A new space in a familiar place. We sit crossed legged, tiny boots tucked under hands that are clasped together in anticipation and excitement. It’s been two long years since we were here. They may have started a while ago, who knows, but today is our first, and for us it is a triumphant return.
It is March. We are emerging from a long winter’s retreat of sorts. Like we always do. Only different. Because #twoyears. Because #lastyears. But I again, doggedly refuse to return to the mental thoughts on a path to guilt.
Two years ago we were coming out from the winter past, too. Once again facing spring, we were ready for adventure again, less layers to lug, less incliment weather and winter fevers to juggle. Closely followed was the anticipation of kindergarten in the fall. The thoughts of “seize the time!” run strong in transitions, and here we are again, another time, another story, similar theme. I almost felt upset for a moment- at what was lost during those two years. But I know that’s not true, it’s not really helpful. If I’m being really honest with myself I probably wanted to kick myself more for the times I didn’t go and I could have. But that isn’t either. So instead, I listen and look around me, where we are, today.
I hear the old songs and some new stories. I watch as my son dances and spins. An older one among them, but still young enough to be free. To dance and jump. A leader now, but still following the music, instructions, delight. Yes, it is a delight to watch this.
Then I hear again that familiar song. The old one I know do well, if not by the number of times I’ve heard it, by the depth. “I see something beautiful…Beautiful… I hear something beautiful. It’s beautiful. .” The song is song by the same musical storyteller. It speaks of babies crying, sisters sleeping, dads laughing. People, at their best and their worst, beautiful. At their silliest, their boldest, in their missteps and striving, resting and playfully. Both. All. Beautiful. It makes me cry. Every. Time. (This thought will not surprise my husband.) But this is so deep it’s different even.
I remember that one time, probably three years back, when I first heard it. Arriving late (as usual) with my young children. Frustrated, faltering, at myself and my failings. At being late. Imperfect. Frustrated. The circle of it all.
Being surrounded by bolder wilder hair, chubbier hands, fluffier cheeks, even more colorful clothing choices. And I remember that song. Traveling all the way from the front of the room where Jason sang, allll the way to the back where I stood, rocking and juggling both babes and my own guilt. That song went straight through, all the way back there, straight through to my heart. I cried then, just as I did today. I felt so seem. As if someone looked right at my good and bad, troubled, yet loving heart, and said. “I see you. And you are beautiful. Even in all of your failings and falterings, you’re still so beautiful.”
They had really. We’re all told to sing along. I heard us all sing it. I heard myself sing it. But I heard it as if it were sung straight to my heart. And, it was.
It’s always been playing. Over all of us. We just need the ears to hear it. To listen. We’re just too stubborn or selfish or slow to. To stubborn to hear it. Instead we’re stubbornly looking at what’s wrong with us and what we’re doing wrong.
Which is why now, as I hear it (and cry again) I stubbornly refuse to give in to that thinking. Of looking back over my shoulder. Counting my faults and all the ways it could have been even slightly better.
Hindsight isn’t always as 20/20 as it tends to be rose colored instead. When you think of what you missed or are missing, the ball that you dropped, you can forget what you chose instead- morning cuddles, warm cozy, peace of mind, avoiding the hustle and bustle sometimes. Always there were Kids to keep track of, personalities and things in the mix. That will never change. We may all grow and change, but we still get hungry and tired and thirsty. We have still have sicknesses, schedules, work, deadlines, dinners, busyness and bossiness. All of the things. When you look back, you can forget why you weren’t there or were. You might wish for a different ratio of things. “I Wish I’d done more of this…, less of that.” You can forget what you were thinking and feeling at the time of decision.
It will always be that way if you let it. You will always be doing something “wrong.” Dropping the ball. Noticing your lack.
But you forget, when you do this, you were doing your best at the time. So don’t. Not this time. There is enough for this moment.
Do you notice what IS, right before? What’s surrounding you, right now?
The GRACE for today. The mercy that’s surrounds you and your every feeble move and heart beat? JUST HOW beautiful you are? HOW MUCH YOU ARE LOVED? Right now?
Today, you are loved and seen and known. Just as you are. And you don’t have to be “doing” any better. Just BE. You’re already beautiful, momma. You’re doing a beautiful job.
You don’t have to keep looking back in your rearview mirror wistfully, or longingly forward, worrying about what you might mess up next, or be messing up today. Just accept that it doesn’t have to be perfect. Not you, not them, not your partner, or your circumstances. None of it. It doesn’t have to be perfect for you to be loved. it doesn’t have to be perfect for you to enjoy it. You just need to be there, where you are, and show up.
You’re embraced- where are you are, wherever your feet go today.
Whether you’re surrounded by chubby feet or those are long gone. Whether you think you did a good job or not. You are beautiful. Stop looking back, stop striving.
You’re beautiful, and Loved.
Just as you are. Today.
Hear that song, singing over you today, too. Right where you are. Loved.
When we start on a new path, we often hesitate. Is it safe? Should I go? What if something bad happens? It’s literally and figuratively true sometimes, this wrestle, when we face new paths and decisions. But, I want to remind you, if it is a path He has set for you, set you on, you can rest assured: it may or not be “safe”, wild or wonderful, but He Himself is with you. Why should we be afraid?
Do we think He would ever send us some place that He is not willing to go too? He will not. “Where God guides He provides” is an age old statement that never looses its richness, only we, our awareness of its truth. Also true is it’s cousin statement: Where He leads us, He goes with us.
“The Lord is my light and my salvation. Whom shall I fear? Whom shall I fear. The Lord is my fortress, protecting me from danger, so why should I tremble? “
Psalm 27:1
Brave doesn’t even always look big or bold. Sometimes, something really brave to one person looks like a cakewalk to another. Brave can even seem boring. But when you wrestle it out where it matters, in your heart, it’s anything but boring. With beating heart, you know. Brave isn’t easy. And brave is as brave does when it’s scared.
Recently I was running, outside, on a crisp, newly melted path. I must admit I’m not one for running solo in the woods. I prefer to run solo, but where people are, or could be in general. I choose wisely so I won’t go missing or be lost. It sounds silly even typing it. But women even brave women need to make wise careful choices for themselves. It might not be a big deal to some but to those that something like this is, it is. A great big deal. So I debated this path, and it was deemed to be safe. Spare some awful uncommon incident, it passed the smell test. Nothing fishy. I only had to face some fear.
I recalled all the truths I cling to, what I know about God. That He would never send us- never does send us- on any path, literal or figurative, where He Himself is not willing to go too. He is there, willing to guide us, to protect us, to BE with us. All we have to do is ask. Like a good father, the best Father, He doesn’t send us out to fend for ourselves and hope for the best. He comes along, with His club in His hand to beat off the wolves, with His provisions should we need anythings, with His light to shine the way.
So that day I remembered these things. I felt peace to go, even though it was a wee tiny bit scary and I went. Everything was fine. Beautiful. The few men I saw were friendly. Running one, walking the other. I could outrun some if needed. But I didn’t feel I would need to. I just ran. For the joy of it.
“Letting go of what is behind I press on toward the mark of the high call of Christ.”
I was running along, delighted, free from fear, with my phone playing worship music in my pocket. After some time, the song drastically and abruptly changed into (ready for it?) MC Hammer’s “Can’t touch this.” I burst out laughing. That may be a song I grew up jamming along to, in nronr colors, 90’s Nike air jordans (like the ones that actually pumped up and filled with air) and even the occasional pair of hammer pants, but that is a song my grown up pandora station has never been asked to play. It was so appropriate though, I could practically hear God laughing. See. Protection. “No evil shall befall you nor any plague come near your dwelling.”Or as MC Hammer said, no one can “touch this.”
God establishes a boundary around us. We need to remember that, and enforce it. To use the truth of God’s word to remind us, remind everything around us that “God is with me.”
“The Lord is my light and my salvation of whom shall I be afraid?”
The verse goes on to say,
“When evil people come to devour me, when my enemies and foes attack me, they will stumble and fall. Though a mighty army surrounds me, my heart will not be afraid. Even if I am attacked, I will remain confident.
The one thing I ask of the Lord— the thing I seek most— is to live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, delighting in the Lord’s perfections and meditating in his Temple. For he will conceal me there when troubles come; he will hide me in his sanctuary. He will place me out of reach on a high rock. Then I will hold my head high above my enemies who surround me. At his sanctuary I will offer sacrifices with shouts of joy, singing and praising the Lord with music.”
Psalm 27:2-6
So should I spend time worrying about what may happen, or deciding which way to go, or or should I remind myself where I can put my trust?
Like I said bravery comes in a lot of shapes and sizes. Sometimes little things that don’t look brave require a lot of bravery when they’re done right. Walking in the door. Saying no. Saying yes. Deciding on something. Sticking to it.
Only you know what wrestle goes on in your heart. Only you get to decide what you remember the most. The things you could be afraid of, or that God goes with you, wherever you go. And He’s there to help you if you let Him. Remember that part. Because the world is full of opportunity to remember, or forget Him. It’s better if you do remember. His faithfulness, His Love and kindness. You’re better if you remember.
The song came on a second time later. Loud and clear. This time I looked at the screen to see where it came from. Some playlist I’d never seen or heard, the fourth or fifth song. Way down the line. So “random”. My God, He has the best sense of humor.
Bravery doesn’t have to be big. Bravery might look small but be quite huge. Like a tiny powerhouse despite ones size. It’s not just some kind of magical occurrence either. That kind of strength, it comes with practice. It comes by osmosis, by wha”I you take in, what you let in, to your heart and your mind. Your mind will come up with a hundred and one scenarios to discredit said bravery, it will always wrestle with your heart. But that is when your heart can flex the muscles you gave it, if you you give it the right chance.
Fill your mind and heart and thoughts with good things. With God things, with His thoughts. With His mind for you. He is for you. His thoughts, they are good ones, they for you. He will never leave you nor forsake you. Nothing can separate you from His love.
“I would have despaired unless I had believed, that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.” Here in the land of the living.
Let that thought, that truth, cover you, now, like a blanket. So when you go out in the world, you know, you’re not alone. You know the truth, that He’s been there all along. Then you can be brave. Because you practiced. Because you learned. You’re not alone.
Now go, be brave however your heart is calling you to be today.
My kids hate waiting for me. I can’t say that I blame them, because waiting is hard sometimes.
If I’m standing at the sink with sudsy soap hands, washing dishes and they need something- a help, a listen, a look- I might often say “hold on just a second.” Being interrupted is a difficult thing and I don’t think I do a perfect job of this. I try to be gentle but firm, and establish some good boundaries. I get it wrong often. But I also distracted way too easily and I find myself leaving a trail of half started unless I’m determined to do otherwise. So I have learned to try to finish the ONE task I’m directly in the middle of. If not allll of the dishes, the one.
They may whine a bit or a lot depending on how long they must wait, how pressing their need feels or appears. I remind them waiting is a part of life. They have some of the utmost priority in my life, ranking highest except their two fathers, earthly and heavenly. They are invaluable and important. But that doesn’t mean they get to interrupt or erupt into every other project, with their current one asserting the most imminent importance. Because they must use manners. Because their problem might be or might not be something to drop everything else for. They are a part of a team. And they can’t always see the whole picture.
They don’t see that while they’re waiting for me to untangle their knot, I’m washing their favorite dish or spoon for later. While they interrupt and need help opening their snack, I’m making their more nourishing dinner.
When they get restless I try to gently remind them. That while they wait for me there are things they can do. I used to say to my toddler, who would be hanging by my feet as I stood at the kitchen sink or the counter- mixing, baking, working. “You can sing a little song, you can dance, you can play while you wait. You can read or tell me a story. But you just can’t whine.” Sometimes my gentleness sounds more like scolding or using a booming voice. To snap through the noise of their whining. To remind them to stop. To look around and to listen.
As they’ve gotten older, I’ve asked them to pay attention, look around. “See what it is I’mDoing. I might already be doing what you’re whining about. Just notice, please, before you start whining. Even if it’s not what you’re looking for me to do, it might be important, what you see.”
They also don’t see what my mind’s eye is looking at, they don’t hear my important thoughts. What I’m figuring out, solving, listening for. And that’s okay. That’s not their job to know, it’s mine to finish. Or at least to witness.
I have parent things that I’m doing or involved in and it’s okay if they don’t understand.
When they were littler, too little to reach the counter, they could only wait. Too little to truly help. Now that they can help more, I remind them that’s a part of it sometimes too. But the best help is noticing, truly, what I’m doing first. No, please don’t open the food coloring and start a science experiment without my blessing. No, don’t argue with each other. No, don’t whine at anyone. Tell me how you feel when you have my attention, but don’t just fuss. Sure, you can help me with the dishes. Sure, help your sibling if you can. Sometimes, help yourself too. But notice. Always notice, first, what I’m doing. How it is I’m loving you, and working on something already. Notice. And then, when you see how you’re loved right now, you can help love, too. Even as you need, or think you need something different too. If that’s not true of us as adults, too. I don’t know what is. With our Heavenly Father, we wait for Him to move or act or do something. He’s already doing something. Unlike me, He ALWAYS knows what’s most important. He always goes and moves in the right order. I get restless as a child. Impatient. I can’t see up on the counter, what He’s doing or why it’s important. More important it seems, than whatever my tangled knots are. I can’t see. So many things. We have this new saying in our house. When things get heated between siblings, or we feel frantic. SLOW DOWN. Knee jerk reactions or a hurried pace can sometimes cause more harm than the help that we seek. This is true for all humans -kids, adults, parents, all of us. With each other, with ourselves, and with God. When we want others to hurry up and we rush them, we cause more trouble than we help. I do guilty of that at times. True for when we’re waiting on God, too. When we want Him to hurry up, Thats when we need to slow things down for ourselves. To slow down. To stop. look. listen. To breaaaattthhhhhhheeee.
To sit like a child, at the feet of the parent who loves us. (And the feeling is more than mutual.) Slow down. And notice. In fact, come and rest. Relax. Rest from worry.
He loves you and He sees you and He can untangle every knot. Look for what He’s doing already now. Because maybe that knot isn’t such a big deal after all. And He’s working on something better. Knowing in your mind’s eye, if not in your body’s, that He works ALL things together for good. Maybe not how and when it is I’m frantically asking. But for good, for our betterment, and our truest delight, not just our temporary one. That we can trust. Because He loves us.
Yes. Come with your requests. Come with your needs. But slow down, enough to see what He’s working on. And yes, He’s working all this together for good. Whining is never a part of His equation and it doesn’t have to be part of yours either.
Maybe you could just rest to begin with.
Sing. Read. Tell a good story. Dance. You can wait with trust, and JOY, even. Because kid, He’s got you. This great God? He’s got you, if you let Him. Don’t forget. You can sit at His feet and notice something good, while you wait, too.
I’ll admit. Last night I had a real good cry over someone on the internet I never met. Well, but for a slight introduction there.
But it wasn’t what you might think. I wasn’t offended. They weren’t some big celebrity. Or even a feel good story. It was just a girl who was some other girl’s best friend. She was diagnosed esophagus cancer and at 35, with a one month old baby, was told she had a year to live. The friend was looking for idea s to help make the time memorable, memorialize the mom. Many chimed in with beautiful ideas. I couldn’t help add much to that but I asked for her name and told her I’d pray for her. And I meant it. I set my alarm to go off at 8:05 am every morning to pray for Sarah. And I did. Every time I saw it. Most prayers were brief. “Lord be with her.” “Lord reveal yourself to her.” I meant to pop back in and check in -on her and the friend. Life gets busy and I didn’t yet. Last night the friend popped up in my feed. Her friend had passed. She said thank you for all of the prayers and good ideas. She had run out of time to do them all 😭😭
One month and ten days after reaching out. One month and ten days of the alarm. One month of brief prayers. And the young mom passed from this life. I sobbed. I don’t know her. I don’t know the state of her heart or mind or soul when she passed. Mostly, I don’t know if my prayers were enough. 😭😭
Friend I don’t want you to get this mixed up. I am not feeling sorry for myself. I am not being emotional. I just don’t know if I did my assignment well enough. I thought I had more time. Isn’t that how this life works anyway, though?
I had a good cry with the Lord. I didn’t know if what I asked for in prayer was “enough”. I mean it feels like I was just priming the pump in a way. If I had know…. maybe my prayers would have been more intense. If I had know the time was so brief, maybe my prayers wouldn’t have been.
None of us know these things. When where why how what. I only know one. Who. Jesus. And the more I talked about with him, bawled my way through the open night sky, the more I was reminded. He doesn’t need big prayers. He just needs an invitation. And really, what bigger prayers is there than “Lord, come.” “Lord, be.” “Lord, show.” (I’m bawling all over again.) Because He is so willing and He is so loving. And don’t I think He will do it? Don’t I think He was just waiting for an invitation?
I don’t know whatever happened with that friend. I don’t know how the story ended here or what her next chapter looks like. I just know that however “imperfectly” or “not enough” I did my small task, I know I did all I could really ever do. I invited the Lord to go and do His. And that, my friends, is the best thing we can ever do.
John 14:25-26 “But when the Father sends the Advocate as my representative—that is, the Holy Spirit—he will teach you everything and will remind you of everything I have told you. I am leaving you with a gift—peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don’t be troubled or afraid.” Holy Spirit, our advocate. Come and be with us, and teach us, show us how to pray. That no matter how big or small our words, to invite you in is all that we really need.
Hey, I'm Courtney, a pretty ordinary girl who thinks we've all been called to an extraordinary life and love story with God. I'm passionate about family, faith, motherhood, and the adventure of every day. I write lots of words, mostly because I can’t help it- and I think it's one of the things I was born to do. I hope that something I write encourages you, to walk in your own unique purpose and calling, set free to love and give it away, starting wherever you are today. That's what Courting the Extraordinary is all about. Finding the good all around you, and giving it away. Finding, too, the God of all goodness who wants to walk with you.
I love quiet mornings, coffee, prayer and “work” before sunrise. Quality time with my family is my jam. I can be found grinning ear to ear when we're out on an adventure. Whether that's in our own backyard or exploring someplace new all-together, I’ll for sure note something beautiful about nature aloud-and maybe repeatedly, ha!. Life is a beautiful, precious gift, and an adventurous path to travel! We might as well learn how to love.
Hey, I'm Courtney, a pretty ordinary girl who thinks we've all been called to an extraordinary life and love story with God. I'm passionate about family, faith, motherhood, and the adventure of every day. I write lots of words, mostly because I can’t help it- and I think it's one of the things I was born to do. I hope that something I write encourages you, to walk in your own unique purpose and calling, set free to love and give it away, starting wherever you are today. That's what Courting the Extraordinary is all about. Finding the good all around you, and giving it away. Finding, too, the God of all goodness who wants to walk with you.
I love quiet mornings, coffee, prayer and “work” before sunrise. Quality time with my family is my jam. I can be found grinning ear to ear when we're out on an adventure. Whether that's in our own backyard or exploring someplace new all-together, I’ll for sure note something beautiful about nature aloud-and maybe repeatedly, ha!. Life is a beautiful, precious gift, and an adventurous path to travel! We might as well learn how to love. 